


Sherlock Holmes, Paranormal Detective

by DetectiveInspector_Caracal



Category: Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Asexual Sherlock Holmes, Gen, Supernatural Elements, i'll add more tags as i add characters, it's an AU with magic and stuff, not a verse crossover i'm just making it up as i go, watson is a sword
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:22:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26097073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DetectiveInspector_Caracal/pseuds/DetectiveInspector_Caracal
Summary: (this is a temporary title)Sherlock Holmes is a consulting detective, but he specializes in untangling the mysteries and crimes of rather more supernatural clientele than your typical detective or PI. After working alone for a few years, he's finally got himself a partner: an intelligent magical sword named Watson.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson
Kudos: 6





	Sherlock Holmes, Paranormal Detective

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, it's a prologue. I know, nobody reads the prologue. I like prologues. ;)

Sherlock Holmes sat in front of his fireplace, staring at the cold, blackened logs in gloomy silence.

A light tap on the door echoed loudly through the sitting room.

“Come in,” he sighed.

The tap repeated, more of a knock this time.

“Come _in_ ,” he said again, louder and with evident irritation.

The door opened. “There’s a package for you, Mr. Holmes,” Mrs. Hudson called in.

“Leave it on the table.” Holmes waved a languid hand in something approximating the right table.

“Tut! You haven’t eaten your supper.”

“I am busy.”

“Nonsense.” She placed the package down with a soft thump. “The delivery man couldn’t say who it’s from, one of your clients I presume.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Hudson.”

“Hmm. Not in trouble again, are you?”

“ _Thank_ you, Mrs. Hudson.”

She gave a sharp nod, not that Holmes could see it, and walked back to the door. “I’ll come back for the tray in an hour.”

He gave no reply, and a moment later, the door clicked shut.

With a sigh, Holmes pushed himself out of the chair and turned, studying the package before crossing the room. The box was long, narrow, and thoroughly tied shut. A brief examination and satisfied nod later, he carefully sliced through the cords and lifted open the lid.

A sword lay inside, complete with scabbard: ornately decorated, but solidly built, not a show piece. Holmes’ gaze flicked across it, taking in one detail after another in quick, exacting succession.

“Magic,” he murmured. “Not cursed. Enchanted? No.”

He reached into the box, fingers brushing lightly over worked metal and laquered wood, assessing every detail, before he lifted it out and turned it lightly around in his hands.

“Unfamiliar workmanship,” he continued to himself, “but recent. No more than a century. A strange artefact indeed.” Turning it round once more, he drew the blade in one deft movement. His expression shifted and he stared at the gleaming metal, frozen in a rare moment of pure, uncomplicated surprise.

“And who,” he addressed it after a moment, “might you be?”


End file.
